


Angst (Just Because)

by Chya



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-29
Updated: 2003-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chya/pseuds/Chya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another Post-Ariel vignette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angst (Just Because)

**Author's Note:**

> Chinese cursing borrowed from (LJC mostly I think.)
> 
> Many thanks to JillyW for most excellent beta patrol – all remaining mistakes are all mine.

Trapped in the airlock, Jayne had plenty of time alone with his thoughts, something he wasn't used to. Usually if he'd been dumb enough to get caught by someone, his time would be taken up plotting how to gut the sons of bitches, or find some other way of making his captors regret ever setting eyes on Jayne Cobb.

This, however, was different. For the first time in his life, not only had he been trapped by a man he respected and trusted to watch his back in a fight, things that didn't come easily to him, but he knew without a doubt that if Mal had left him to get spaced he would have deserved it.

Sure Mal had warned him off the Doc and his sister, but at that point in time he'd been too full of pain fuelled red anger to give the Captain's orders much weight, other than their preventing him from clueing Mal in on his plan. Up until that little discussion in the infirmary, Jayne had been so sure that Mal would be looking to pass the Tam's on for a profit given the right opportunity that it had only fed his anger to be told otherwise.

He'd known from the get-go that they were trouble. The Doc he just plain didn't like; well, maybe it wasn't no personal thing, just the too white skin and smooth hands that had clearly never seen a hard day's work. He'd noticed that right off because hands told a man a lot about a person. Look for the calluses and scars and you'd know if you were looking at a knifeman, rifleman, master blaster, or what all. And then there was that soft spoke hoity toity voice that implied superiority regardless of the words said. A man had to earn respect, like Mal did in his Captain-type way, or he had himself with his muscle, guns and eye for detail.

And then there was the moon brained little chit upon whom he could have quite happily dumped all his woes, leastways up until a few hours ago. He scratched at the stitched gash on his chest and winced, wishing he had access to some of the Doc's dope. He'd always thought the brother and sister were dangerous because of the likelihood they'd have the Alliance sniffing around while they were making an honest living doing things that the Alliance didn't approve of but, while he was highly suspicious of the Doc after that doping incident, he hadn't expected the girl to take a knife to him. He'd slipped up there, gotten too used to feeling safe, else she'd never have got near him.

If only she hadn't made him so gorram angry; she'd said he looked good in red - well, he was seeing red for a good long time after that and it was her fault that he'd needed to get rid of her and her oh so fancy pants brother.

Except.

Except the Doc had come up with a ruttin' good plan. A good trade with profit in the making and healthy cuts for them all. He'd been impressed that the goody two shoes had come up with that. That hadn't been no lie he'd told Mal. And then when the Doc had stopped to bring that man back to life... He hadn't understood it all, only that the Doc had risked them all to save that man, but the fact that he was a good enough quack to be able to do that, as well as the confidence and authority that had suddenly sprung out of him, and then to go and stand up to that double crossing Fed all led Jayne to see a whole other person than the one he disliked so much. One he could maybe have respected if he hadn't been so namby-pamby all the rest of the time.

In any case, there was still the psycho sister to get rid of, and the big proud smile she'd had for her brother was sickening. Course, Jayne'd give anything to have someone to smile at him like that. Well, maybe not anything, but quite a lot, maybe even Vera. And not in the way the Canton mudders did neither, because he hadn't done anything to deserve it then. But when the Doc was muttering about what they did to her – gorram it, she was just a kid. She might be as nutty as all hell now, but there was no way she could ever have deserved having some creep cutting into her brain over and again. No one deserved that. Not even Reavers.

And knowing all that now made him ashamed of what he'd tried to do. But most of all was the look of complete disgust Mal gave him, like he was some critter crawling under a rock. Mal had never trusted him, and rightly so, and there was no pretence between them. Jayne'd never had to pretend to be anything other than what he was with Mal, and the Captain in turn had respected him for his skills. The Captain had even turned out to be a decent man. Almost as ruthless as Jayne was, but ruling with a fair and respectful hand.

The thing that shamed him most was that he'd lost that respect and he knew that it would be hard work to win it back. He wasn't afraid of dying, always knew it would come sooner or later, but the fact that it was Mal that had been going to do it had terrified him. Almost as bad as Reavers. Because he knew that Mal had come that close to leaving him to get spaced. He wasn't even sure why he'd decided to spare him. Only that it was a decision that the Captain'd had to think too long about not have been seriously contemplating the idea.

One other thing Jayne regretted was, Mal had asked him on more than one occasion if he had a problem with the Tams. The Captain had even asked with some concern, like he'd understood if he had, if Jayne would just tell him. And he'd lied. Couldn't get over his anger, wouldn't admit to the plans he'd made. Looking back he recognised that he should have come clean with Mal. The Captain might've even let him keep some of his cut if he had.

The airlock opening on the inside startled Jayne from his musing.

Mal was stood there by the controls. "Told the others you went for a nap," he said. "Best you get to your bunk a while before showing your face."

Jayne couldn't bring himself to meet Mal's eye. "Did you tell them what I did?" He had to know.

Mal shook his head as he climbed the stairs. "Reckon it's up to you to make restitution," he said before disappearing towards the galley and leaving Jayne alone in the cargo hold.

Having gone directly to his bunk, Jayne decided he needed a shower. The sterile odour of the hospital fairly assaulted his sense of smell which, despite barbed comments from others - especially Inara - to the contrary, was pretty sensitive. There was nothing wrong with the scent of honest dirt, the sweat of hard work and the gunpowder and oil of his trade. So maybe the cigars were a mite pungent, but it wasn't like Inara didn't have some highly suspicious smells in her shuttle.

It was on his return from the shower, clad in just shorts and scrubbing his short hair dry with a towel, that he ran into the Doc. The Doc was downright scary with his smiling face and worshipful words and such, and Jayne just wanted out of there. He couldn't believe that the Doc didn't know, his guilt surely had to be written all over his face.

But the Doc was there, pawing him, tutting over the red blast burn on his chest that was nothing by itself, but had aggravated the stitching some. Jayne tried to duck away, polite like so Mal wouldn't have cause to complain, but the Doc whipped out a tiny penlight and shone it in his eyes while poking the bruises on his head. He had a headache for sure, but the only thing really hurt like a bitch was the bite on his hand, now hidden in the folds of the towel and wrapped with a piece of ripped sheet to stop the blood dripping so he didn't get any on his knives or guns when he cleaned them. He wasn't going to actually tell the Doc that, not wanting to suffer any more of his presence than he absolutely had to, so he thanked the boy a lot and backed away, heading rapidly for his bunk and locking the hatchway tight behind him.

Almost preferred the Doc not talking to him at all.

Breakfast was almost unbearable with the Doc not shutting up, even though Jayne told him to, but only the once because Mal glared at him something ferocious.

Kaylee kept asking if he was all right, and it wasn't until after that he realised it was because half his face was swelled up with the bruises. It didn't matter where on the boat he was, it seemed the instant he scratched at his chest the Doc was there with some kind of healing ointment, but it was his hand that itched and burned most, even though he'd cleaned it good with hard vodka.

He felt too sick for dinner and stayed in his bunk. Couldn't decide what was worse, Mal's disgust, Zoë and Wash looking at him sidewise like they knew what he'd done, Book looking like he'd had a revelation, or Kaylee and the Doc's overwhelming concern. At least he could count on the moon brain and Inara.

The girl was still creepifying, but she mostly ignored him. Apart from the odd weird comment about Christmas getting stolen. Nothing to do with him as he hadn't seen a Christmas since… since… in a long time anyway.

He did consider talking with Inara, seeing as she was the only one that treated him the same as before Ariel. But he'd never been able to talk with her, always being on the defensive 'cos she was so little and graceful and like something from a wet dream, not real, that she made him feel so big and clumsy and dirty that he couldn't help giving her what she expected and then some. And besides, she had weird smells in her shuttle.

One thing was for sure. He couldn't stay on board Serenity. Mal had accepted the Doc and his sister and now it was he, Jayne, who was on probation. Mal hadn't said as much, but it was pretty clear. And Jayne knew very well that with the Doc to compete against, he had no chance of regaining the respect he'd had before. He was better than the Doc could ever hope to be in his dreams at the stuff he was good at, but Mal and Zoë and Wash and Book and Kaylee had enough muscle between them. Zoë was almost as good a shot as he was, and Serenity didn't need a hunter. Mal had only requested him to hunt someone or something down a couple of times since he'd been on board, and even then he would've been able to do it blind, only needed a pair of eyes to see, so he wasn't offering anything Mal didn't already have. Better he found new work at the next dock.

He toyed with telling Mal he would leave and then thought against it. Mal would be okay, would make sure he didn't trip on the way out. But he'd tell Zoë, and Zoë would tell Wash and Wash would never be able to keep his mouth shut. Kaylee and the Doc, even Inara would find out what he'd done sooner or later, regardless of whether he stayed or went. And since he already knew he wouldn't be welcome on Serenity anymore, he figured he could do without them all telling him so.

It did concern him some that there was too much caring about what the others thought of him going on, so that was something else he needed to do. Stop caring what they thought of him. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd started, but it wasn't good for him. Like thinking he was safe. He wasn't and he needed to make sure he didn't forget that again.

He was good at shoving people away from him, lots of practice, but this was the first time it didn't come natural to him, and he had to make an effort. No bonding through mutual bitching and his own brand of lewd, rude and crude. Just silence and the cold shoulder.

Except his gorram hand itching like crazy made him a mite too tetchy to pull that off too well either.

The Doc kept finding Jayne out no matter where he hid, and there were moments when he wished he could fit into some of the moon brain's hidey holes. He hadn't meant to keep the Doc from treating his hand; it had first been guilty annoyance, and then when the Doc saw the dirty bandage, he kept trying to look and that irritated Jayne even more until it became almost a game, with the Doc trying to jump out and grab his suffering hand while Jayne tried to hide and protect it.

He'd tried finding some antibiotic cream or something himself when the Doc wasn't looking, but since Canton the Doc kept everything pretty well locked up and, while that might not have deterred him in the past, he guessed that Mal probably wouldn't approve. So he'd settled for giving a cupboard a kick and storming back to his bunk to douse the flaming wound with more vodka. Gorram waste of good liquor it was too.

He knew he wasn't doing too good, both with the sick and putting distance between himself and the others. His patience was virtually non-existent and he had to keep reminding himself that he wanted to stay on Mal's sweet side, because that airlock was still there. Little Kaylee kept hunting him down too, and he felt even more guilty about snapping his refusal to play games at her. Even if he'd been of a mind to, the thought of playing deckball made him feel sick, and the thought of food had ruined more than one good shirt so far.

Even the Preacher had gotten in on the act, cornering him when he'd snuck out of his bunk to get some water, and trying to bully him into seeing the Doc. A snarl and a hearty thump of an overhead panel that had him wincing had sent the Shepherd scurrying away without Jayne ever having to open his mouth. That thought had brought a small smile to his face and made him feel more like his usual self.

It would be easier if these people were superficial, but there was genuine concern and caring of him, from the Doc because he thought he was looking at a hero, from Kaylee because she had to see the best in everyone and from Book because he believed that everyone had to be looked after. It was hard having them close, knowing that if they knew what he'd done then they'd turn away.

It was all too hard.

Too hard to face them, and harder to tell them. He just had to wait it out until they landed at the next rock.

And now they were close to landing. Some small outpost went by the name of Haven. Would probably have to wait a year for another transport, but better than staying on board. He'd wait a while until he was sure most had gone. He could deal with whoever stayed, just walk right on through them. He hoped it was Inara, because at least her looking at him in disgust wouldn't be a new thing, and maybe Wash in the cockpit which he didn't need to go anywhere near.

Shaking hands and blurring eyes hampered his efforts to finish packing, and he cursed the fever that was settling in. He could barely flex his hand now, no good for man who lived by the gun, but maybe Haven would have some local quack he could see.

It took him a half dozen attempts to take inventory, and each time he came up short. Binky was missing and that wasn't good. If the moon brain had taken it, he hoped she wasn't in the colouring-in mood today. Binky had been good and faithful, but every weapon had its day, and the knife had fought her share of battles. So he kind of said goodbye to her and Serenity at the same time.

Not saying goodbye to the people. Just the boat and the knife.

That's all he'd miss.

Honest.

If anyone saw Jayne leave Serenity with his bags, the big mercenary was blissfully unaware of it. Feeling like he had the hangover from a three-day drunk without the benefit of the drunk part, he concentrated on not falling over and finding somewhere to rectify that situation.

Which was how come he was slumped at a corner table, so cold he was sweating while he fought a running battle with his stomach to keep the bottle of whiskey down. And why he thought he was having a vision when Serenity's Captain materialised in the seat next to him.

"Now," began the vision, while slowly multiplying, "don't you be thinking that I'm here out of the goodness of my own heart, because you'd be sorely mistaken. But I've recently discovered that when little Kaylee and the Doc get together, they can be a mighty persuasive force."

Jayne grunted in reply, the only thing he was capable of doing right then, because his head was swimming off too horribly to concentrate on doing all else.

"Are you listening to me?" Mal asked him. "Because I'm really not in the mood to be repeating my own self to you."

Another grunt. Because it seemed like some response was wanted rather than any real understanding.

"I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when the Shepherd informed me of your unauthorised disembarkation. Without saying a word to me, not even so much as a by-your-leave? Which, with all that's passed between us, I was under the impression was the least you owed me. So I can make Captain decisions regarding the best for my crew. And you upping and leaving unannounced is preventing me from carrying out my Captainly duties."

Mal was beating about the bush, something that was unusual for him, and Jayne was certain the tāmāde húndàn was rubbing salt in his suffering. If he'd been able to get up any energy at all, he'd tell Mal where to take his words, but right now he had to settle for way too many of the gorram critters bouncing hard around the inside of his skull.

"My own opinion was that you'd taken your clothing to get acquainted with the concept of washing, and your weaponry for a walk to get some fresh air and oxygen. I'm still standing by that opinion, Jayne."

Another grunt and Mal was all over him, not that Jayne was at all resistant, what with not being able to tell which one of the Mal visions was the one he should be hitting on, no matter how much he squinted. The captain was straddling him on the floor, bunching his tank up with one hand. "Didn't take you for a coward, Jayne." Mal hissed at him, and Jayne shrank away.

"'M not…"

"You're many things, and traitor springs readily to mind for some reason. Not to mention murderer, thief, sociopath and uncivilised liúmáng. But never a coward. You have no right to run out on us. For money, for personal gain I can understand, but this I do not. I've invested too much time in teaching you basic civility, and that last conversation we had - I really thought something had gotten into that thick skull of yours, but it seems I was wrong."

"Mal, don't… not…" Jayne just wanted him to shut up, because the words were hurting now, slicing lightning in his eyeballs and something scary raking claws inside his chest.

"Do you hear me, Jayne? Because I swear I'll – tzao gao!"

It didn't really matter any more what Mal swore since all the Mal's in front of Jayne's pained eyes all joined together and fell backwards up a tunnel of dark until there was only blackness left.

"… leave the chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo here. Save on lift-off load…"

Sneering man.

"… show compassion…"

Wise lâotou preaching sermons.

"… a point... more trustworthy, I have contacts …"

Soft woman.

"… can't leave… it's not right!"

Sweet girl.

"…a hero, I owe him, Captain…"

Pansy ass.

"… don't confuse heroism with self-preservation, Doctor…no hero."

Hard woman.

"… wants to be, but too much red in a lost Christmas…"

Crazy moon brain.

"Yeh-soo! This is not up for debate! We all know the man's a mean son of a bitch, but he's our mean son of a bitch!"

Mal.

Jayne woke up suddenly and fully, glancing wildly about his bunk.

Something wasn't right and he didn't at first know exactly what was bothering him, everything being in place. His hand slipped under his pillow to find Boo sleeping there, and he found the comforting grip as he tried to work out what was so unsettling about his bunk.

A quick check behind the wall matting showed his hardware all in place, but it was the floor that wasn't quite right. His clothes weren't there. Rather they were folded neatly in the corner. Damned creepifying and he wiped old sweat from his face with his hand.

Stared at his hand, at the new ragged scarring between thumb and fingers, while a knock preceded Mal Reynolds' uninvited slide down the steps.

Squinting over at Mal, Boo pointed squarely at the Captain's chest. "What húndàn saw fit to tidy up in here, 'cause I'm of a mind to gut 'em real slow and painful. It's downright scarifying for a man to wake up to, to, this." Boo waving around at the room in general.

Mal sighed and stayed where he was, making a show of looking about him. "I cannot say that I disagree. Kaylee and the Shepherd arranged most of the place, but I did think that River was going to give the Doc a heart attack what with her outstanding knowledge of your weaponry. Was highly mystifying how she knew exactly what went where."

"Crazy moon brain messing with my girls?" Jayne's eyes nearly popped out at the thought of the kid touching his precious toys. "T'ain't right! Tell her to keep her hands off, she ain't got no business being down here anyway."

"Yeah. Uh, Jayne, do you think you could see your way to putting down that, ah, that gun there, pointing it somewhere else that isn't me?"

"Boo."

"Huh?"

"Boo. Her name." Jayne said as he lowered the big silver gun.

"Boo. Right, and moving swiftly on, what's the last thing you remember?"

Jayne had to think about that, something that seemed too slow right now, and he shook his head, sitting up on the edge of his bunk and rubbing at his hand. "Uh, stuff. A bar, maybe?" He shrugged slightly, kinda feeling like he did right before his old man took a strap to him.

"Right," Mal nodded. "A bar. Now, I had the Doc dope you up for a few days, long enough to get you patched, and long enough for us to complete our transactions and get back in the black without having to worry about you, so don't you take issue with him over that. Dong ma?"

The anger that started up at the thought of being drugged out of his skull by the Doc again died before it ever really took hold and he nodded.

"No lie this time?" Mal persisted.

"No lie," he muttered, sending a mutinous glare Mal's way just to make himself feel a bit better.

"Good. Do you know what the word 'restitution' means?"

Jayne bit back the automatic rude comment, judging that Mal wasn't playing games, that once again he was dancing with getting spaced.

"Sure, Mal, I know what it means," he said instead. "Means I gotta earn your respect and all again."

The Captain nodded. "Close enough. Think you can do that? Or should I show you the door?"

Jayne shook his head, hating the whine that crept unbidden into his voice. "I can't, Mal, it's… I dunno, it's just… just… " Too hard. "I can't compete with the Doc, you know?"

"I'm not asking you to compete with anyone, you thick headed húndàn!" Mal's voice rose. "I already respect what you do. And it's because of that I let Kaylee talk me into hauling your ass back on board. What I want is for you to make nice, try and keep your anti-social self under control, treat the Doc and every other member of my crew with the respect I say they deserve. And maybe, just maybe you could find it within yourself to 'fess up to the Doc."

"No!" Jayne protested with a snarl. "The rest, I can maybe try the rest, but not the Doc. I can't do that."

"Why?" Mal's voice was softer as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "What is it about the Doc that offends you so?"

Jayne had to think about that as he rubbed his hand on his pants leg. "It's not the Doc," he said finally. "I mean, it was, but that's done. But - you're asking me to 'fess up and pray he don't kill me."

Mal considered a second. "Well, creative revenge maybe, but I don't think the Doc's really into the killing thing. It'd be kinda hypocritical, don't you think?"

Jayne rolled his eyes as the Captain clearly wasn't getting it. "I don't trust no one that much, Mal!" he explained. "It goes against everything I… uh, well I can't do it and that's a fact."

"You trusted me that much." Mal replied. "Took a bit of work, but you did in the end."

"Ah, you can't count that. I was out of options, you saw to that."

Mal nodded once. "True. But I'm giving you options now. You make restitution, or you leave."

Jayne stared at him, unsure what the right answer was here. If he promised restitution, Mal would know it for a lie and space him. And the other? Well, he didn't want to get spaced.

Mal moved to push his face into Jayne's. "If you decide you want to leave, I'll not stop you, next planetfall you take your kit and you leave. But you do it all proper like. You'll tell me you're wanting to leave, I'll give you my Captain's leave, you'll say goodbye to everyone on board and then you'll go." He stepped back away. "Because I do not ever want to have near on a civil war on my own boat over whether to come after the likes of you."

There was his answer - he'd just have to fortify himself for the goodbye part. "Mal, I want to lea - "

But the Captain carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "And if you do leave, then I don't want to have to set eyes on you ever again, because I cannot stomach a coward who runs away when the going gets tough." He paused. "Unless there are bullets or sharp pointy objects involved, of course, but I think you get my gist."

That Mal could actually think worse of him hurt Jayne in a way he found as confusing as he had in the airlock. He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing the Captain even more, and found the idea of staying and facing Mal, the Doc, the others actually less painful than that of leaving under the Captain's contempt. "Mal, I - "

"Nope." Mal backed towards the stairs. "You think on it a day or two. It's gonna be a week before we set down on Clementine.

"But I - "

"Uh uh." Mal grabbed the ladder.

"I just - "

"Don't wanna hear it," Mal said, as he climbed the ladder out.

"Can I - "

"Not listening." Mal reached the top and made to close the door, but popped his head back in. "I hear they grow real apples on Clementine, you might want to think on that." And the door shut.

Jayne slumped back against the wall, staring up at the door. "Aw, Mal," he said to empty space. "I want to stay. I never meant to leave, just wasn't in my right mind is all. And I hate it, but I want to stay."

The door popped open. "I knew that." Mal said flatly.

"You did?" Jayne blinked.

Mal produced something clean and silver. "You left Binky in the bathroom."

Jayne jumped forward to catch the big knife deftly before her gleaming sharp point hit the deck as the door above closed again.

"Shiny," he said, with small grin.

FINIS


End file.
